Her Last Letter Part 37

He led us toward the bas.e.m.e.nt, then flipped on the light at the top of the stairs. His eyes s.h.i.+fted to the left and right. "Ever notice how creepy this place is? Gives me the w.i.l.l.i.e.s. Tripped and almost broke my neck last time I came down here."

He motioned for us to proceed ahead of him. We started down and the stairs creaked, louder than usual. Something skittered across the floor.

"What was that?" he said, stopping.

I glanced back at him.

"Did you see that?" he said.

"No." I looked aside at Linda.

"Yeah, you saw it. f.u.c.kin' rats. Probably got a nest down here."

"We don't have rats."

"Sure. Like I'm seeing things."

He jabbed me between the shoulder blades, indicating we should continue down.

I shrugged. "Could be Kelly. Maybe she wants to know what you're doing down here with us."

"What the f.u.c.k you talking about?"

"You don't know? She still lives here-in the house. You telling me you can't feel it?" I gazed up at the rafters. "That cold sensation running up your backbone? Like you know somebody's watching? You said it yourself. The house gives you the creeps."

"Quit messing with me and shut the f.u.c.k up."

He followed us across the bas.e.m.e.nt. I heard the switchblade click into life.

I glanced back at him-at the knife.

"Oh, you worried about this?" he said. "It's just insurance. So I don't have to ask you twice. Stand aside."

We were directly in front of my father's tool cabinet. It stood seven feet tall, four feet wide. The doors were open, the tools exposed.

"So, you know about this?" he asked.

"Know about what?" I said.

He tugged hard on the right side of it and it moved. He reached in behind, fooled around with something, then swung the cabinet out. I realized it was on hinges. Behind the cabinet, on the wall, was a door.

"There used to be a padlock on this," he said. "It took some work, but I finally got it sawed off. Could have used that key you found."

He opened the door and turned on a light.

"So what do you think?" he asked. "Take a look."

The room was narrow and long, maybe five feet by twelve, the walls cement block, no windows. The escaping air felt dank and smelled of mold and rotting insect corpses, reminding me of a tomb. To the far left was a floor safe. To the far right, two file cabinets set side by side.

Now I finally understood where the strange noises had come from while my father was still alive. We weren't supposed to know about his secret room.

"Get in there and sit on the floor," Craig said. "Put your hands behind your backs." He shoved us toward the file cabinets.

Linda looked at me, eyes wide with terror.

Craig turned toward the safe, and I nodded over my shoulder at Linda, calling her attention to the screwdriver I'd shoved down the back of my pants. I eased the tool out, sat on it. Craig held up the note I'd given him and examined it. He set the knife atop the safe.

"How did you find this room?" I asked. "In all this time I never knew it was here."

He ignored me and continued to study the note.

"I'm just curious how you were able to figure it out."

"Shut up."

"I'm just wondering, that's all. I mean, in all these years, I-"

"Okay, just to shut you up, I'll tell you. Look, this is a partial bas.e.m.e.nt, but if you understand construction, you'd know that even with a partial bas.e.m.e.nt, at least one wall follows the foundation. I noticed while I was searching around down here that the last bas.e.m.e.nt window up there is a foot away from the wall. Outside, the same window is six feet away. I figured there could be something built between."

He reached behind the safe and drew out a roll of duct tape.

"And you thought you might find more boxes in here," I said. "But then you found the safe."

"Yeah, sure."

"But you needed the combination. And now I've given it to you. Why didn't you get a locksmith to help you open the safe? You must have known someone."

"Enough with the twenty questions." He picked up the knife and came toward us with the tape.

"Craig, don't ... please," I said. "You don't have to do this. I promise I won't cause more trouble. I know you're innocent. Just let me help you."

"Then do what I say."

I watched as he slit the tape with the knife, ready to bind Linda's wrists. He knelt down, his back to me. I slowly reached beneath me for the screwdriver. The moment he set the knife beside him, I sprang up and plunged the screwdriver down-but his arm shot up and flipped it from my hand.

Blood spread down his shoulder. I'd slashed him, but not deeply.

"s.h.i.+t," he yelled, his hand flying up to the wound. "You crazy b.i.t.c.h. You f.u.c.king crazy b.i.t.c.h." He reached over and grabbed me by the throat, crus.h.i.+ng my larynx. I fought for air, fought to loosen his grip.

"Promise you won't cause more trouble, huh? You just wanna help me. Think I'll let you join your f.u.c.king dead sister. First-watch this one die." He released me and brought the knife to Linda's neck. A line of crimson droplets appeared.

"No," I choked out. "You need her. She's ... the only one ... who knows-"

"Knows what?"

"The combination ... the real one. That one ... won't work. Try it. Just try it."

He tossed Linda aside and she flopped against the wall. "I just might do that."

He held the note and began dialing in the numbers. His first attempt failed to open the safe. He tried again. His second attempt also failed.

"Okay, gimme the right combination or I'll cut you open and gut you right here."

Linda had pa.s.sed out, but was beginning to stir.

"What is it?" he shrieked.

Suddenly, the lights went out. I backed across the floor to Linda, gathered her to me. I couldn't see well, but I could hear something ... a soft mournful whisper, like wind corks.c.r.e.w.i.n.g through a crack. Then the whisper became louder, more insistent, until it formed recognizable words.

"Don't ... touch ...them."

"What?" he said. "What was that? Who said that?"

The wavering voice grew stronger. "Don't ... touch ... them." The hair rose at the back of my neck. I recognized the voice. Kelly's.

"You're dead," he shouted. "You're f.u.c.king dead. You stay the h.e.l.l away from me." His knife cut the air as he swung it to the left and right.

The stairs creaked, and I heard each frightful footfall as Kelly descended.

"I'll kill you," he shouted. "I'll kill you again!"

A blinding light appeared on his face. He held up an arm to fend it off, then screamed, reaching back with the knife.

"Police officers. Don't move."

Craig hurled the knife toward his target.

Shots split the air.

Craig squealed out in pain. "G.o.d, I'm shot. I'm shot. For chrissake someone help me. Aaarrrggghhh."

The overhead light came on and I saw Nate holding a gun on Craig. Two other police officers hustled down the stairs. Sue came in right behind them. She pointed at Linda, then shouted, "Get someone in here in a hurry. She's losing blood."

"Are you okay?" Sue asked, bending over me.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry. We couldn't get here any sooner. Our man on Linda-he got caught out in the blizzard and couldn't reach us. We didn't know you were in trouble right away."

I watched as medical emergency personnel rushed down the stairs to Linda.

"But ... how did you find us? And ... I heard ..."

"I put a GPS tracker on your Jeep, in the off chance your husband might drive it. When we lost track of Linda, we had to a.s.sume she might be with you. The Subaru hadn't moved off the ridge. So we kept an eye out. Then you parked on the street, not in the driveway, and that made our ears go up. One of my guys snuck around the back, found the garage open, a motorcycle inside. We figured it was Craig's.... And the voice? That was me. I'm sorry I had to use your sister in that way, but I had to find a way to distract Craig, get him away from you until the police arrived. I'd only listened to Kelly's voice on the videotape a few times, but I gave it a try, and it worked. It was almost as if she were here, protecting you. I do think she was trying to help me out in the end."

Chapter 24.

Two days later, Caroline met me over at the old house. I'd hired a safecracker, just in case the combination I had in my possession failed to open the safe. I already knew what would be inside, the money Kelly had withdrawn from her account, the mysterious three hundred and fifty thousand dollars that had disappeared, the cash Craig was after.

Care and I watched as Herman R. Mathis, a smiling rail-thin man dressed in gray work clothes, knelt in front of the safe and delicately worked the dial.

"Nope, wouldn't want to mess around with this one without the combination," he said, "no you sure wouldn't. Anyone knows his business would take one look at her and say-no way. Doesn't surprise me your daddy built a special room for her. You try to drill into this lady and you'll be in a world of hurt."

"How come?" I asked.

"Because she's got cyanide gla.s.s packs in the door and the rear of her, plus gla.s.s sheets. You drill her and she'll bite ya-bite ya bad."

He pulled open the door. "There you go." He stepped aside. "She'll be needing some maintenance. After you're finished here, I could do that for ya."

"Sure," I said. "That would be fine."

"I'll leave you to your business. You just give me a call when you're done here."

"Okay."

We watched as Herman took the stairs, humming as he went.

I looked at Caroline, then reached inside the safe for one of the largest vinyl packets and unzipped it. Inside lay several stacks of hundreds in bank wrappers.

"Whew, that's a lot of loot," said Caroline. "Do you think Craig knew about the cyanide?"

"No idea. Though he must have known other unscrupulous types like himself. They might have told him the safe was rigged. Maybe the cops will drag it out of him."

"Yeah."

Caroline helped me stack the packets. I counted them, then tossed them into two plastic garbage bags I'd brought to haul up to the Jeep. Kelly's stash did appear to be somewhere in the neighborhood of three hundred and fifty thousand, but I'd leave the actual counting to the bank. I planned to give half of the money to Linda, then donate the other half to a charity or some other good cause Kelly would have favored.

"Sure you don't want a couple of these?" I asked, holding out two stacks of hundreds. "Kelly would approve." But I already knew Caroline's answer.

"No, I don't. But thanks." She smiled. "I like to keep things simple. But you knew that. Weird, aren't I?"

"No."

"I'll let you buy me lunch though."

"Sure."

"So how's Linda doing?" she asked.

"Better. She'll have a two-inch scar on her neck, but the plastic surgeon did a nice job. She's getting therapy too, to help her deal with all this, and she kicked Wolfgang out ... although it might only be temporary. She's ambivalent. Hard for her to let go. She told me she knew what kind of man he was from the beginning, and she knew about the affair with Kelly. Though it practically killed her, she kept quiet, figuring Kelly would eventually tire of him and move on. And she did. Linda says what she needs now is time alone to sort things out. She's delayed her trip to Hawaii until she feels up to the flight, but she still plans to go, and she's taking a girlfriend."